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A Dimpled Sorrow

BellaLuna

Favoured Frenzy
It was noon, and I was sitting in the hospital corridor, waiting for my cousin’s baseline tests to finish. My phone was in my hand, but I wasn’t really looking at it. Then I heard a soft, sweet voice from beside me, a woman talking on the phone. Her voice was so gentle, almost like honey, and it somehow pulled me in, even though I was still looking at my phone. I found myself listening to her words, drawn to the warmth in her tone.
A few minutes passed, and she hung up the call. I kept staring at my phone, but now my thoughts were elsewhere. Why did she stop? Why did she disconnect? I wanted to hear her voice again.
I was an introvert, tho, and starting a convo felt impossible. Maybe I could just ask her the time? But no, that would seem weird...why would she think I can’t check the time myself? I quickly discarded that idea.
I rehearsed a greeting in my head. "Assalamu Alaikum." It was simple, and at least it gave me a reason to speak.

Finally, I gathered the courage, lifted my eyes, and said, "Assalamu Alaikum." She looked at me, smiled, and replied softly, "Walaykumus salam." That smile, those dimples...her eyes... I couldn’t take my eyes off her. How could someone be so beautiful? The thought was almost surreal.
She asked why I was at the hospital, and the conversation started to flow. But inside, I was still wondering, Is she real? Is this really happening? Or am I just dreaming?

Just to make myself believe, a strange idea popped into my head. I hesitated...should I really do this? But something inside me pushed me forward. I reached for her hand, gently held it, and said, “I’ve heard that people with beautiful eyes have cried the most. That’s why their eyes turn so beautiful. Is that true? Or is it just your amazing genes?" I tried to make it light, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I saw her eyes fill with tears. Her smile disappeared, and the dimples were gone. Her cheeks turned pink, but the tears were there, and my heart sank.
I froze. What had I done? In that moment, I felt like my heart was to blame for causing her pain. My body felt numb, like it wasn’t mine anymore. I wanted to take back my words, to rewind everything.
But I couldn’t. I forced myself to speak, my voice trembling, “Did I remind you of something painful? I’m so sorry.” I pulled her into a hug, my arms around her as I felt her tears against me. I wanted to make everything better.

Her sobs shook me. I just wanted to take away her pain. I wanted to know why she was crying, to share her sadness if I could, and to bring back that smile, that dimple I had admired so much.
Eventually, I managed to get her to smile again. But deep down, I wondered: Would she ever be truly happy? Would she ever stop pretending to be okay, showing that dimple as a mask? Was there more to her pain, something I would never fully understand? Would she ever find peace, or was sadness always going to follow her? Would life ever stop testing her?

I wished I could be the one to protect her from all of that...
I wish people can live without masks of happiness.
I wish...
 
It was noon, and I was sitting in the hospital corridor, waiting for my cousin’s baseline tests to finish. My phone was in my hand, but I wasn’t really looking at it. Then I heard a soft, sweet voice from beside me, a woman talking on the phone. Her voice was so gentle, almost like honey, and it somehow pulled me in, even though I was still looking at my phone. I found myself listening to her words, drawn to the warmth in her tone.
A few minutes passed, and she hung up the call. I kept staring at my phone, but now my thoughts were elsewhere. Why did she stop? Why did she disconnect? I wanted to hear her voice again.
I was an introvert, tho, and starting a convo felt impossible. Maybe I could just ask her the time? But no, that would seem weird...why would she think I can’t check the time myself? I quickly discarded that idea.
I rehearsed a greeting in my head. "Assalamu Alaikum." It was simple, and at least it gave me a reason to speak.

Finally, I gathered the courage, lifted my eyes, and said, "Assalamu Alaikum." She looked at me, smiled, and replied softly, "Walaykumus salam." That smile, those dimples...her eyes... I couldn’t take my eyes off her. How could someone be so beautiful? The thought was almost surreal.
She asked why I was at the hospital, and the conversation started to flow. But inside, I was still wondering, Is she real? Is this really happening? Or am I just dreaming?

Just to make myself believe, a strange idea popped into my head. I hesitated...should I really do this? But something inside me pushed me forward. I reached for her hand, gently held it, and said, “I’ve heard that people with beautiful eyes have cried the most. That’s why their eyes turn so beautiful. Is that true? Or is it just your amazing genes?" I tried to make it light, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I saw her eyes fill with tears. Her smile disappeared, and the dimples were gone. Her cheeks turned pink, but the tears were there, and my heart sank.
I froze. What had I done? In that moment, I felt like my heart was to blame for causing her pain. My body felt numb, like it wasn’t mine anymore. I wanted to take back my words, to rewind everything.
But I couldn’t. I forced myself to speak, my voice trembling, “Did I remind you of something painful? I’m so sorry.” I pulled her into a hug, my arms around her as I felt her tears against me. I wanted to make everything better.

Her sobs shook me. I just wanted to take away her pain. I wanted to know why she was crying, to share her sadness if I could, and to bring back that smile, that dimple I had admired so much.
Eventually, I managed to get her to smile again. But deep down, I wondered: Would she ever be truly happy? Would she ever stop pretending to be okay, showing that dimple as a mask? Was there more to her pain, something I would never fully understand? Would she ever find peace, or was sadness always going to follow her? Would life ever stop testing her?

I wished I could be the one to protect her from all of that...
I wish people can live without masks of happiness.
I wish...
Wow, I could vividly imagine her face through your narration. Incredible as always! I’m such a big fan of your writing girl....cheers!!
 
It was noon, and I was sitting in the hospital corridor, waiting for my cousin’s baseline tests to finish. My phone was in my hand, but I wasn’t really looking at it. Then I heard a soft, sweet voice from beside me, a woman talking on the phone. Her voice was so gentle, almost like honey, and it somehow pulled me in, even though I was still looking at my phone. I found myself listening to her words, drawn to the warmth in her tone.
A few minutes passed, and she hung up the call. I kept staring at my phone, but now my thoughts were elsewhere. Why did she stop? Why did she disconnect? I wanted to hear her voice again.
I was an introvert, tho, and starting a convo felt impossible. Maybe I could just ask her the time? But no, that would seem weird...why would she think I can’t check the time myself? I quickly discarded that idea.
I rehearsed a greeting in my head. "Assalamu Alaikum." It was simple, and at least it gave me a reason to speak.

Finally, I gathered the courage, lifted my eyes, and said, "Assalamu Alaikum." She looked at me, smiled, and replied softly, "Walaykumus salam." That smile, those dimples...her eyes... I couldn’t take my eyes off her. How could someone be so beautiful? The thought was almost surreal.
She asked why I was at the hospital, and the conversation started to flow. But inside, I was still wondering, Is she real? Is this really happening? Or am I just dreaming?

Just to make myself believe, a strange idea popped into my head. I hesitated...should I really do this? But something inside me pushed me forward. I reached for her hand, gently held it, and said, “I’ve heard that people with beautiful eyes have cried the most. That’s why their eyes turn so beautiful. Is that true? Or is it just your amazing genes?" I tried to make it light, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I saw her eyes fill with tears. Her smile disappeared, and the dimples were gone. Her cheeks turned pink, but the tears were there, and my heart sank.
I froze. What had I done? In that moment, I felt like my heart was to blame for causing her pain. My body felt numb, like it wasn’t mine anymore. I wanted to take back my words, to rewind everything.
But I couldn’t. I forced myself to speak, my voice trembling, “Did I remind you of something painful? I’m so sorry.” I pulled her into a hug, my arms around her as I felt her tears against me. I wanted to make everything better.

Her sobs shook me. I just wanted to take away her pain. I wanted to know why she was crying, to share her sadness if I could, and to bring back that smile, that dimple I had admired so much.
Eventually, I managed to get her to smile again. But deep down, I wondered: Would she ever be truly happy? Would she ever stop pretending to be okay, showing that dimple as a mask? Was there more to her pain, something I would never fully understand? Would she ever find peace, or was sadness always going to follow her? Would life ever stop testing her?

I wished I could be the one to protect her from all of that...
I wish people can live without masks of happiness.
I wish...
Wow
 
It was noon, and I was sitting in the hospital corridor, waiting for my cousin’s baseline tests to finish. My phone was in my hand, but I wasn’t really looking at it. Then I heard a soft, sweet voice from beside me, a woman talking on the phone. Her voice was so gentle, almost like honey, and it somehow pulled me in, even though I was still looking at my phone. I found myself listening to her words, drawn to the warmth in her tone.
A few minutes passed, and she hung up the call. I kept staring at my phone, but now my thoughts were elsewhere. Why did she stop? Why did she disconnect? I wanted to hear her voice again.
I was an introvert, tho, and starting a convo felt impossible. Maybe I could just ask her the time? But no, that would seem weird...why would she think I can’t check the time myself? I quickly discarded that idea.
I rehearsed a greeting in my head. "Assalamu Alaikum." It was simple, and at least it gave me a reason to speak.

Finally, I gathered the courage, lifted my eyes, and said, "Assalamu Alaikum." She looked at me, smiled, and replied softly, "Walaykumus salam." That smile, those dimples...her eyes... I couldn’t take my eyes off her. How could someone be so beautiful? The thought was almost surreal.
She asked why I was at the hospital, and the conversation started to flow. But inside, I was still wondering, Is she real? Is this really happening? Or am I just dreaming?

Just to make myself believe, a strange idea popped into my head. I hesitated...should I really do this? But something inside me pushed me forward. I reached for her hand, gently held it, and said, “I’ve heard that people with beautiful eyes have cried the most. That’s why their eyes turn so beautiful. Is that true? Or is it just your amazing genes?" I tried to make it light, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I saw her eyes fill with tears. Her smile disappeared, and the dimples were gone. Her cheeks turned pink, but the tears were there, and my heart sank.
I froze. What had I done? In that moment, I felt like my heart was to blame for causing her pain. My body felt numb, like it wasn’t mine anymore. I wanted to take back my words, to rewind everything.
But I couldn’t. I forced myself to speak, my voice trembling, “Did I remind you of something painful? I’m so sorry.” I pulled her into a hug, my arms around her as I felt her tears against me. I wanted to make everything better.

Her sobs shook me. I just wanted to take away her pain. I wanted to know why she was crying, to share her sadness if I could, and to bring back that smile, that dimple I had admired so much.
Eventually, I managed to get her to smile again. But deep down, I wondered: Would she ever be truly happy? Would she ever stop pretending to be okay, showing that dimple as a mask? Was there more to her pain, something I would never fully understand? Would she ever find peace, or was sadness always going to follow her? Would life ever stop testing her?

I wished I could be the one to protect her from all of that...
I wish people can live without masks of happiness.
I wish...
yes-excited.gif
 
It was noon, and I was sitting in the hospital corridor, waiting for my cousin’s baseline tests to finish. My phone was in my hand, but I wasn’t really looking at it. Then I heard a soft, sweet voice from beside me, a woman talking on the phone. Her voice was so gentle, almost like honey, and it somehow pulled me in, even though I was still looking at my phone. I found myself listening to her words, drawn to the warmth in her tone.
A few minutes passed, and she hung up the call. I kept staring at my phone, but now my thoughts were elsewhere. Why did she stop? Why did she disconnect? I wanted to hear her voice again.
I was an introvert, tho, and starting a convo felt impossible. Maybe I could just ask her the time? But no, that would seem weird...why would she think I can’t check the time myself? I quickly discarded that idea.
I rehearsed a greeting in my head. "Assalamu Alaikum." It was simple, and at least it gave me a reason to speak.

Finally, I gathered the courage, lifted my eyes, and said, "Assalamu Alaikum." She looked at me, smiled, and replied softly, "Walaykumus salam." That smile, those dimples...her eyes... I couldn’t take my eyes off her. How could someone be so beautiful? The thought was almost surreal.
She asked why I was at the hospital, and the conversation started to flow. But inside, I was still wondering, Is she real? Is this really happening? Or am I just dreaming?

Just to make myself believe, a strange idea popped into my head. I hesitated...should I really do this? But something inside me pushed me forward. I reached for her hand, gently held it, and said, “I’ve heard that people with beautiful eyes have cried the most. That’s why their eyes turn so beautiful. Is that true? Or is it just your amazing genes?" I tried to make it light, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I saw her eyes fill with tears. Her smile disappeared, and the dimples were gone. Her cheeks turned pink, but the tears were there, and my heart sank.
I froze. What had I done? In that moment, I felt like my heart was to blame for causing her pain. My body felt numb, like it wasn’t mine anymore. I wanted to take back my words, to rewind everything.
But I couldn’t. I forced myself to speak, my voice trembling, “Did I remind you of something painful? I’m so sorry.” I pulled her into a hug, my arms around her as I felt her tears against me. I wanted to make everything better.

Her sobs shook me. I just wanted to take away her pain. I wanted to know why she was crying, to share her sadness if I could, and to bring back that smile, that dimple I had admired so much.
Eventually, I managed to get her to smile again. But deep down, I wondered: Would she ever be truly happy? Would she ever stop pretending to be okay, showing that dimple as a mask? Was there more to her pain, something I would never fully understand? Would she ever find peace, or was sadness always going to follow her? Would life ever stop testing her?

I wished I could be the one to protect her from all of that...
I wish people can live without masks of happiness.
I wish...
Wow.Wonderful skill of elaborating small plot in a way , making it very interesting, with a lesion to learn. Keep it up. :cool:
 
It was noon, and I was sitting in the hospital corridor, waiting for my cousin’s baseline tests to finish. My phone was in my hand, but I wasn’t really looking at it. Then I heard a soft, sweet voice from beside me, a woman talking on the phone. Her voice was so gentle, almost like honey, and it somehow pulled me in, even though I was still looking at my phone. I found myself listening to her words, drawn to the warmth in her tone.
A few minutes passed, and she hung up the call. I kept staring at my phone, but now my thoughts were elsewhere. Why did she stop? Why did she disconnect? I wanted to hear her voice again.
I was an introvert, tho, and starting a convo felt impossible. Maybe I could just ask her the time? But no, that would seem weird...why would she think I can’t check the time myself? I quickly discarded that idea.
I rehearsed a greeting in my head. "Assalamu Alaikum." It was simple, and at least it gave me a reason to speak.

Finally, I gathered the courage, lifted my eyes, and said, "Assalamu Alaikum." She looked at me, smiled, and replied softly, "Walaykumus salam." That smile, those dimples...her eyes... I couldn’t take my eyes off her. How could someone be so beautiful? The thought was almost surreal.
She asked why I was at the hospital, and the conversation started to flow. But inside, I was still wondering, Is she real? Is this really happening? Or am I just dreaming?

Just to make myself believe, a strange idea popped into my head. I hesitated...should I really do this? But something inside me pushed me forward. I reached for her hand, gently held it, and said, “I’ve heard that people with beautiful eyes have cried the most. That’s why their eyes turn so beautiful. Is that true? Or is it just your amazing genes?" I tried to make it light, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I saw her eyes fill with tears. Her smile disappeared, and the dimples were gone. Her cheeks turned pink, but the tears were there, and my heart sank.
I froze. What had I done? In that moment, I felt like my heart was to blame for causing her pain. My body felt numb, like it wasn’t mine anymore. I wanted to take back my words, to rewind everything.
But I couldn’t. I forced myself to speak, my voice trembling, “Did I remind you of something painful? I’m so sorry.” I pulled her into a hug, my arms around her as I felt her tears against me. I wanted to make everything better.

Her sobs shook me. I just wanted to take away her pain. I wanted to know why she was crying, to share her sadness if I could, and to bring back that smile, that dimple I had admired so much.
Eventually, I managed to get her to smile again. But deep down, I wondered: Would she ever be truly happy? Would she ever stop pretending to be okay, showing that dimple as a mask? Was there more to her pain, something I would never fully understand? Would she ever find peace, or was sadness always going to follow her? Would life ever stop testing her?

I wished I could be the one to protect her from all of that...
I wish people can live without masks of happiness.
I wish...


Wow @Sensely :Like:


She is the one who lights up every room, making everyone around her happy. Among her friends and colleagues, she is known as the most cheerful one.

Soft and childlike at heart, she hides all her sorrows and struggles behind a radiant, beautiful smile. To the world, she seems like the happiest person ever, but deep down, she is not.

I wished I could protect her from all her pain. I wished people didn’t have to wear masks of happiness.

I wished...



 
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